


Martin Blackwood needs a hug

by haunted_by_catholic_guilt



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cigarettes, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Graphic Description, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Rated T for language, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, also my first ever fanfic, implied eating disorder, its really angsty, mom said its my turn to project onto martin, no beta we die like tim
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25596922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haunted_by_catholic_guilt/pseuds/haunted_by_catholic_guilt
Summary: i am projecting onto this poor lad sorry guys
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood & Sasha James & Tim Stoker, Sasha James & Tim Stoker
Comments: 11
Kudos: 44





	1. Martin Blackwood does not get a hug

**Author's Note:**

> TW FOR SELF HARM  
> my first work, I am not very good and I am sorry about that

Martin Blackwood hated himself.

He always had, and probably always will. He hated the way he talked and looked, and how he lied. 

He was a good liar.

He lied to the institute itself and got away with it. 

He lied to Tim whenever he asked how he was doing. 

To Sasha when she asked if he was ok. 

Martin was also used to being lied to, or at least not being told the full truth.

Tim and Sasha saying he was their friend.

At least Jon told the truth and didn’t hide the hate he has for Martin.

He loved Jon and Jon hated him.

It wasn’t a new feeling for Martin. His mom hated him, and he was sure his dad did too.

It was late, the Archives was quiet but Martin was sure Jon was still there, he always was. 

Martin worried about Jon, despite the shorter man's treatment of him. 

He didn’t bring much to the archives, he didn’t want to go back to his apartment. All he had was some clothes, a few books, notebooks and pens and a small box.

In that box was something he didn’t like to use often, and for a while, he didn’t use it at all.

Then everything happened.

His mum, Jon being.. an ass, the worms.

It was all too much.

So there he was, sitting on the small cot in the archives, that he hardly fit on, staring at the contents of the box.

A small razor blade, a flannel, some plasters, and a few alcohol wipes, what could he say, he liked being safe. 

It had been a while since he last did it, but the motions felt like second nature at this point, take the blade, find a spot on his arm that could be easily hidden by his jumper, press, and slice.

Repeat.

One, two, three, four… he lost count after a while, but he felt good now. All the stress and pain and sadness vanished, for the first time in months.

But not for long.

It never worked for long, a few short seconds, maybe a few minutes if he was lucky. But never for long.

_ What if I just.. no, no I can’t do that here  _

But he wanted to, what trouble would it cause? Sure someone would find him, but it wouldn’t hurt anyone… maybe it would help some people, make them happier.

No, he couldn’t, not here, not now.

Not in the archives, not while he.. looked like this.

He didn’t realize he was zoning out until he felt a warm liquid drop on his pant leg and he looked at his arm and

_ Fuck _

He didn’t realize how deeply he had cut 

He grabbed the flannel from the box and pressed it to his arm.

_ Please stop bleeding, please stop bleeding, please- _

Five minutes passed and he lifted the cloth, just a little, and the bleeding hadn’t stopped at all.

_ Fuck _

He needed to do something.

He needed help. 

He couldn’t get help, no one here to ask and AnE was out of the question, it wasn’t even that bad.

He was getting dizzy. 

He wanted to sleep.

_ Sleep, yeah that sounds like a good idea…  _

He let his eyes slip closed and fell asleep, his arm still bleeding.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He woke up to a knock on the door.

A quick, sharp knock.

“Martin, are you alright in there? It’s already 10 o’clock”

It was Tim 

_ Fuck  _

“Y-yeah, sorry, my alarm didn’t go off this morning is all, sorry” he lied. 

“Alright, well Jon is very pissed off at the moment, so you should probably hurry up and maybe avoid Jon today” 

“Alright, ah, thank you, Tim”

Tim had already walked away, and it was only then that Martin took a second to process, well everything.

The flannel was stuck to his arm, hard with dried blood, and his shirt he had fallen asleep in was soaked in blood.

But the bleeding had stopped.

He sighed, pulling the flannel off, and taking a look at the cuts. 

They were wide, it looked like he had cut down to the muscle.

Fuck.

He needed stitches.

He sighed, took an alcohol wipe, lightly brushing away the crusted blood, and took a large plaster and covered the cuts with it, and went on with his daily routine.

He went to his desk and worked uninterrupted until lunch, but he swore he saw Tim and Sasha give him a few worried glances.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Martin, it is just amazing how you can be late to work, while you live here”

Fuck, it was Jon.

“Jon, lay off him, he’s had a rough few weeks”

“We all have, Tim, there is no excuse for him being this late while he works here”

“I-I’m so sorry, Jon, I slept through my alarm, I think a-and I couldn’t sleep last night so I was very tired. I’m sorry Jon, it won’t happen again”

He had a death grip on his own arm, he didn’t realize it at the moment, but it was right where the plaster was, and apparently the fact that he was squeezing it made it bleed again, he wasn’t really sure what happened, and he didn’t even feel anything until Sasha spoke up-

“Martin, you’re bleeding, are you alright?”

He looked down and 

_ Fuck _

He was bleeding, and it was a lot of blood, he needed to get out of here and now.

“Y-yes I’m fine, I’m just, uh, going to d-deal with this, I’ll be back soon and finish up the follow up on this case, again so sorry Jon”

And with that, he was gone, practically running out of the break room, and out of the institute.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What in the hell was that” 

Jon wasn’t sure what to reply to Tim’s question, but he also wasn’t sure it was meant for him, or anyone, really.

“That was an unhealthy amount of blood I have to say”

Sasha sounded, worried and stressed, Jon thought, which was fair, he didn’t even know what to say.

“Well, he better be back soon, he has a lot of work to do, both of you should get back to work too.”

Why Jon decided to say that out of all the things he was thinking, he couldn’t tell you, but he just wanted to get back to his office and back to work.

“Jon, is that really all you can think about? Martins just-“

He couldn’t hear the rest of what Tim was saying, he had already shut the door to his office.

_ Time to get back to work, I suppose. _

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim was worried. That much blood, in that location... Martin wouldn’t.. would he?

“Sasha, are you thinking what I am thinking?”

“That we need to go investigate?”

“Exactly so”

Jon could fuck off, Martin was hurting and damn if Tim wasn’t going to try and help him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sasha was pretty sure she knew what it was, but it still frightened her when she opened the door to where Martin was staying and saw a blood-stained nightshirt and flannel laying on the bed and an open box with bandaids and a razor blade on the cardboard box he used as a nightstand.

“Shit”

She looked at Tim, he looked as scared as she felt.

She grabbed the box, and walked out, thinking of a place to hide it for the time being, and thought about what to do next.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Martin didn’t actually get back to the institute until much later in the day, which was his intent when Tim and Sasha were gone.

He had spent quite a few hours at the store, picking up a wrap for his arm, hopefully being able to avoid getting stitches or another.. incident, a bottle of vodka, a pack of cigarettes and a scale.

Jon saw him walk back in, but didn’t make a move to yell at him.

As Martin got back to his room, he didn’t fail to notice what was missing as he set down his shopping. 

Fuck. 


	2. Martin gets hug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He gets a hug!!!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW FOR SELF HARM
> 
> comfort has been attempted

Martin knew what was coming.

He knew it’s not like it was the first time someone had found out!

But this was different.

This was Tim and Sasha, and he had a reputation at the institute! 

He was supposed to be happy and helpful! Not depressed or a burden.

He sighed, it was going to be morning soon, he had been awake all night, mostly worrying.

Some drinking and scrolling through social media tags that he really should not have been on.

It’s not like anyone cared.

He had to be up for work in three hours.

He plugged in his phone and went to sleep.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tim had spent a larger portion of the night on google and texting Sasha, trying to think of the next action to take.

He googled why people self-harmed, how to approach someone about it, how to  _ help _ someone who did it.

He and Sasha decided to talk to Martin during their lunch break, and he was planning on talking to Jon and demanding he show Martin even just a little more kindness.

Jon was smart, he had to admit that, but he was so damn oblivious when it came to emotions when it came to Martin.

Martin who did his best to take care of all of them, even after Jane Prentiss and being forced to live in the archives, made sure they all slept and ate and took care of themselves!

_ How did we not notice anything? _

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Tim closed his laptop. He knew it was getting late, and sent out a quick text to Sasha finalizing the plan, and went to bed.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sleep came and went far too quickly for Sasha.

She knew what had to be done, so sighing, she climbed out of her bed, and got ready for the day, all while repeating to herself the plan, and that they could help Martin.

She was furious with Jon.

She was mad at herself.

_ How didn’t I notice it! We’ve known each other for years!  _

She sighed, knowing there was nothing she could do to change the past now, but she could help in the future.

She could help Martin get better. He deserved to get better.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Jon was… unsure.

He knew what that was, he thought.

Maybe. 

Self-harm, probably, Jon wasn’t dumb, he had been to high school and University.

He just didn’t think Martin would do that.

That he had a  _ reason _ to do it.

Martin was happy, loving, and slightly overwhelming when it came to his  _ obnoxious _ mother-henning.

Jon wasn’t good with other people’s emotions, he wasn’t even good with his own! 

He felt like he needed to do something.

He just wasn’t sure what.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The institute was quiet that morning.

Sasha brought in everyone’s favorite coffee in (or tea, in Martins’s case) from a cafè around the corner from the institute.

The air was tense, and everyone looked uncomfortable.

Martin didn’t meet anyone’s gaze all morning.

When lunch rolled around, Tim ordered in takeout for him, Sasha and Martin, and waved Martin over to sit with them.

Then Jon walked in. 

The air went still as he walked into the break room, and you could hear a pin drop.

You could also hear Tim fuming.

“J-Jon! Hello, s-sorry about yesterday, I know it was unprofessional and it won’t happen again”

It was Martin, the first words he had said all day to any of them.

Jon stood like a deer in headlights.

“Jon, me and Sasha were about to have a talk with Martin, if you don’t mind, ya know, headin out”

“Tim, I understand that we have known each other for quite some time, but I am your boss and you should treat me with some semblance of respect”

Jon paused, thinking for a second, about what to do next.

“And if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to be here for this conversation, I may not show it, but I am not completely uncaring about my employees”

This stumped Tim, but Martin stepped in and saved him, in away.

“Guys there is no reason to have a conversation about yesterday if that is what you are talking about, I’m fine, everything is ok heh, if you don’t mind though I am, uh, going to go eat alone”

Martin stood up and started to back away but was stopped by Sasha putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Sit, we are having this talk and if Jon wants to be here he can be”

“Seriously! I’m fine guys, nothing to worry about! I don’t even know what conversation you guys want to have”

Martin was shaking at this point, clearly panicking and scared.

“Martin, can we see your arms, if you really  _ are _ fine”

Tim wasn’t exactly sure if this was the right approach but he also didn’t have that much of an option right now. 

Martin was panicking, he felt tears pricking behind his eyes, his chest was pounding and he just wanted to get out of there.

Sasha hadn’t let go of his shoulder yet, her grip was firm but full of care.

_ Care. _

_ Martin they care. _

It was a quiet whisper in the back of his head, barely there and hardly breaking through the panic, shame, and guilt he felt about all of this.

He remembered the first time his Mum found out.

How she sat him down and screamed at him, for god knows how long, removed all the door handles so he could close or lock them, how he wasn’t allowed to be alone in a room for a week, how he wasn’t allowed to wear long pants or long-sleeved shirts. 

She stopped caring after a week, remembering her own ailment and demanding Martins care full time again.

Not that much had changed during that week. Just less privacy than usual. 

“Martin… Martin are you alright?”

He was brought back to now by Sasha lightly shaking him and speaking softly to him.

And he broke.

He was sobbing in the middle of the break room, his boss and co-workers standing and watching him.

_ God I am pathetic  _

_ They’re going to leave and hate you, just like everyone else when they find out you’re a fucking mess. _

These thoughts kept swarming it his head and he couldn’t breathe, he swore the room was getting smaller and he just wanted to make it stop.

“Martin, you need to breathe, you’re ok, it’s ok”

Sasha.

There were arms around him, he wasn’t sure who they belonged to at first. He was on the floor but didn’t remember how he got there. 

He opened his eyes and saw Tim in front of him, his hands on Martin’s knees, and Sasha with her arms around his shoulders and-

And Jon.

_ Fuck _

Jon was crouching awkwardly next to him, not touching him but his hand was hovering over Martin's arm.

There goes any chance Martin ever had.

“Martin, you’re ok, it’s just us”

Tim was speaking softly, a contrast to his usually hyper tone.

Martin sighed and looked down at his arm, and quietly pulled up the sleeve.

He had bled through the bandage wrap he had put on.

Again.

“Fuck, hey Martin? Do you think we could have a look at that, make sure it’s not infected or too deep?”

It was Tim, speaking softly as if to a wounded animal or scared child.

Martin hated it.

He nodded, carefully taking the bandage off as he heard Tim telling Jon to find the first aid kit.

He heard Sasha gasp and Tim curse when the saw it.

He could feel the tears again.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry”

Martin was hyperventilating, and spewing off apologies that were broken and muffled by his jumper.

“Martin”

It was Jon, he was standing above him.

“Stop apologizing for one damn second”

Martin could almost laugh.

He heard Tim sigh.

“Martin that’s really bad, I think you need to go to the doctor”

_ Shit. _

_ Martin hated hospitals. _

_ Hated doctors. _

“No, no it doesn’t it will heal just fine on it’s on its own I’m fine, it doesn’t matter”

Martin felt his chest tighten again, but he was scrambling to fix the bandage and stand up, prove he was fine.

“Martin it’s-“

“Tim, he’s a grown man, if he doesn’t want to go, he doesn’t need to”

Martin swore he could hear Tim’s rage.

“But, it does need to be cleaned and closed up, we can use the butterfly bandages in the first aid kit, it will keep it closed, no hospital required”

_ Jon cares. _

Martin felt like he could cry again but he wouldn’t, not again.

He nodded.

“Martin, can you come sit at the table? It will be easier for me to patch you up there”

It was odd, hearing Jon talk like this.

Hearing Jon talk like this to him.

Martin sat at the table and Jon set to work fixing his arm.

Tim and Sasha set to warming up the food and making tea.

“Martin, can you promise me one thing”

He hummed an affirmative noise.

“Please, don’t do this again, if you feel like you need to, come talk to us, to  _ me,  _ you don’t deserve to feel like this, we care about you and want you to get better. _ ” _

Martin smiled and nodded.

And for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, he felt cared about.

Martin Blackwood hated himself, but with the help of his friends, maybe he could hate himself a little less. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey google what does it feel like to be loved?

**Author's Note:**

> do you guys want a chapter 2 with comfort? let me know on my Tumblr the-cynical-nihilist


End file.
